


Your Pole or Mine

by donteattheappleshook, HollyeLeigh



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Eventual Smut, F/M, Innuendo, Pole Dancing, mechanical bull riding, more pole dancing, poorly installed fitness pole, stripper!killian, what exactly is the protocol for boning your hot stripper neighbor?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:08:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23815909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donteattheappleshook/pseuds/donteattheappleshook, https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollyeLeigh/pseuds/HollyeLeigh
Summary: Killian hadn’t really had a chance to make his neighbor’s acquaintance since he’d moved in a few weeks ago, but he had seen her often enough to know how very much he wished for an introduction. Not just because she was stunningly beautiful with her long blonde hair, bright green eyes, and creamy complexion, but because he felt they likely had quite a bit in common, given the odd hours they both seemed to keep. Her current predicament with her parcel might finally afford him the opportunity to connect with her in a more meaningful way than simple waves and muttered hellos. That is, until said parcel caused him to voice the assumption he’d held about her vocation; that her occupation might be the same as his own. Turns out the late nights, provocative outfits, and arrival of a fitness dance pole did not mean what he thought it did.“You think I’m a stripper?”Bloody Hell.
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan
Comments: 28
Kudos: 191





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [teamhook](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teamhook/gifts).



> From Hollye: This fic was birthed from two prompt posts. The first from @wyntereyez, who made Emma installing a fitness pole in her apartment and her neighbor, Killian getting the wrong idea. It caused the #enablersunite members to begin calling out authors. @donteattheappleshook and me being two of them. During the course of a few spit balling conversations in the CSMM Discord, it was clear that a collaboration was in order. So, here we are.
> 
> I am providing the set up, which not only includes @wyntereyez’s prompt, but the fulfillment on a promise I made long ago when @gingerchangeling shared a post about a mechanical bull riding male stripper, and threw out a prompt with it in one of the Discords (I don’t remember which), and @teamhook and @kmomof4 wore me down into agreeing to write it. Better late than never, right??
> 
> The fabulous @donteattheapplehook will be following it up with a part two, so no need to yell at me when you get to the end. More (along with Killian and Emma) is coming! The update will be posted as a chapter two, so go ahead and subscribe so you'll be notified when it posts.
> 
> Without further ado... Enjoy!

* * *

Killian was wiped out. Looking forward to collapsing in his bed and sleeping the next day - _well, technically, it was already the next day, seeing as how it was three in morning_ \- away, he was none too thrilled to see the _out of order_ sign hanging on the front of the lift, and the stairs leading up to his apartment blocked by a rather large box and a woman attempting to finagle it up the steps. Most of his frustration left him when he realized who the woman was, though.

The blonde goddess who lived next door.

He hadn’t really had a chance to make her acquaintance since he’d moved in a few weeks ago, but he had seen her often enough to know how very much he wished for an introduction. Not just because she was stunningly beautiful with her long blonde hair, bright green eyes, and creamy complexion, but because he felt they likely had quite a bit in common, given the odd hours they both seemed to keep. Her current predicament with her parcel might finally afford him the opportunity to connect with her in a more meaningful way than simple waves and muttered hellos.

“Need a hand there, love?”

The box slipped out of her grip, which also held the sky high heels he’d become accustomed to seeing her wear, and landed on the steps with a metallic clang chiming from within.

“Sorry about that,” Killian said, rushing over to pick up the dropped bundle from where it had slid down to the bottom of the landing. It wasn’t overly heavy, just a bit awkward in size and shape, and most likely difficult to hold onto, given her hands were already partially full.

“Thanks,” she replied, gruffly. “Ruby told me something had been delivered this afternoon and had put it in the office. I would have left it there until tomorrow, but didn’t want it to be in her way.”

Ruby was Ruby Lucas, granddaughter of their landlady who lived on site and managed the day to day operations of the building. It wasn’t unusual for her to sign for residence’s packages so they wouldn’t have to worry about being home during the delivery, or about their post sitting at their door all day cluttering up the hallway.

“You weren’t expecting a delivery?” Killian followed her up the stairs, the question presented to sate his curiosity every bit as much as to distract him from how fantastic her arse looked in the short, tight, black leather dress she was wearing.

“No,” she huffed. “I most definitely did not order that thing. My idiot boyfriend did.”

Pushing aside the sinking feeling in his stomach over the knowledge the lass was taken, Killian glanced down at the package in his hand and managed a chuckle when he saw what it was.

“I can see why he’s vexed you. A fitness pole might help to keep you in shape and spice things up, but bad form in him wanting you to bring work home with you.”

“Bring work home with me?”

They made it to their respective doors, and she’d just finished unlocking hers before turning to him with a perplexed expression that made Killian’s skin flare with an itching sense of awkwardness that he may have presumed wrongly about his neighbor’s vocation.

“I… that is.” Having set the box down at her door, he backed up and scratched behind his ear, gathering himself before making his confession. “It seems I may have made an error in my assumption that, because we keep similar hours, and the fact that you dress so… _provocatively_ so often, that meant you and I held the same occupation.”

“The same occupation?”

She was still looking at him with her brows furrowed in confusion. When his eyes flicked down to the box, the silhouetted image of a woman wrapping herself around a pole practically flaunting itself off its side, her eyes followed and then widened as comprehension dawned on her.

“You think I’m a stripper?”

_Bloody hell!_

Killian wasn’t sure if her tone was an indication of insult or mere shock.

“Wait,” she said, holding up her hands, her heels still dangling from her fingers, as she was clearly processing his words. “If you thought I was… then are you a… a, um.”

“Stripper.” Killian provided her with a small nod. “Though I prefer the term exotic dancer.”

“Oh!”

They stood there for several long, awkward moments, her with her mouth opening and closing in an attempt to find words, and him thoroughly enjoying how adorable she was when flustered.

“Make sure you take care when installing that,” Killian instructed, indicating the box wedged in her door and diffusing the tense atmosphere that had begun to choke the hallway. “If not properly done, you could end up having a rather nasty accident.” Despite the fact she had a boyfriend, he couldn’t help but proposition, “And let me know if you’d like any tips in using it,” he brought up his hand and brushed his thumb over his bottom lip, waggling his brows at her when he added, “or perhaps even a demonstration.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, which did wonderful things for her already enticing cleavage, and propped her hip against the door jamb, giving him a raised brow while smothering a twitch at her lips he hoped was an errant smile. “I thought only female strippers used poles.”

Killian swallowed back the tawdry comeback dancing on his tongue, not wanting to push his luck, and replied with a casual shrug. “I have a colleague who works at a... _men’s establishment_ who teaches a pole fitness class on the side. She invited me to try my hand at it when she first started. I can refer her to you if you’d like?”

Wetting her lips - _heavens above, she was trying to kill him_ \- she looked down once more at the package at her feet. “I’m not sure I’ll even keep it,” she told him with a small shrug.

“Are you not really into fitness, then?” Given the definition of her body, he knew she had to have some sort of workout regime, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed it enough to consider it a hobby.

“Oh, I’m into fitness,” she stated with a small hint of mischief. “Fittin’ this whole pizza in my mouth.”

Killian huffed out a small chuckle, becoming even more enamoured with her, despite the lameness of her joke. Or maybe because of it.

Adorably, she scrunched up her nose and shook her head. “Yeah, that joke doesn’t really land without an actual pizza present, huh? I blame the exhaustion. Clearly, I need sleep.” She gave him a small smile and Killian thought she might be stalling, but the next moment she looked over her shoulder, into her apartment, and sighed wearily. “Speaking of which…”

“Aye. I won’t keep you,” Killian replied, taking a step backwards towards his door. “It was lovely to finally meet you, Swan.” When she arched a questioning brow at him, he gave her a devilish grin. “Your name’s on the box.”

“Right,” she responded with a light blush tinting her cheeks as she pushed off from her doorway. “It was nice to finally meet you, too…” She trailed off with an expectant look cast his way.

“Killian,” he supplied, holding out his hand then bringing hers up towards his face once she’d placed it within his grasp. “Killian Jones, at your service.” Brushing a light kiss to the back of her knuckles, he couldn’t help the smirk tugging at his lips when the hairs on her arms raised from the action. Releasing her hand with one final smile, he bid her goodnight before turning and digging for his keys.

“Bail bonds,” she called out from behind him.

Swinging around again, he cocked his head to the side. “Pardon?”

“My job,” she clarified. “I’m in bail bonds. Best time to catch skips is at night, and I dress like this,” she swept a hand down her body, giving him a plausible excuse for the appreciative perusal of his eyes in its wake, “to lure them out.”

“Highly effective, I would imagine,” Killian strained out, swallowing past the lust rising from within… and tightening below.

A proud, preening expression played across her features as she informed him, “I bag the biggest bounties in the city.”

Once again, Killian’s good form relented to his cheekier side. With a salacious grin, he narrowed his gaze at her and purred, “I certainly wouldn’t mind you bagging me.”

He thought he saw her breath catch before she rolled her eyes at him with a laugh. “Goodnight, Killian.”

“Goodnight, Swan,” he answered back, watching as she pushed the box that had started the entire encounter completely over the threshold with her foot before closing the door behind her.

Killian sighed and rested his forehead against the cool finish of his own door then hastily inserted his key into the lock. Now he was even more eager to get in bed… with imaginings of his neighbor putting her new purchase to use.

~/~

There wasn’t going to be any skin left on her lip if she didn’t stop chewing at it nervously. _For fuck’s sake, just knock already!_ Emma admonished herself, though she made no attempt to raise her hand and actually follow through on the internal command.

This wasn’t like her. She didn’t get flustered by a handsome face, toned body, and sultry accent. Okay. The accent maybe, but she’d met many men just as attractive as her neighbor, and they didn’t leave her fidgeting in front of their doors with her stomach in knots and her heart about to pound out of her chest.

That was the real reason it had taken so long for them to be properly introduced. Every time she saw him, her nerves would get the better of her. Not because she was too nervous to approach him, but because she didn’t want him to see how he affected her. Emma Swan did not swoon, and until she could get the rest of her mind and body to remember that fact whenever her new, hot neighbor was within the vicinity, all he would get from her was a quick wave and hello before her heated cheeks could betray her. Though she _had_ noticed, a time or twice, how her risque honey trap outfits affected _him_.

She had her annoyance at her soon to be ex-idiot-boyfriend - _ex being the boyfriend part, not the idiot part. He’d always be an idiot_ \- to thank for helping her keep her composure when her neighbor assisted her a few nights ago in getting the surprise package up the stairs. And talk about a surprise! What the hell had Walsh been thinking? A fitness pole? Seriously? Her shock over its arrival was eclipsed only by the shock that her neighbor had considered it a confirmation of his assumption that she, Emma _two-left-feet_ Swan, was a stripper… er, exotic dancer. Her shock was then surpassed again upon discovering that his assumptions were grounded in the fact that _he_ was an exotic dancer, and oh boy, didn’t _that_ bit of information have an affect on _her…_ and her nether regions.

Although his offer of assistance in demonstrating the use of her new item had been dripping with innuendo, Emma knew there had been true neighborly sincerity behind his words. It was this sincerity, and maybe the excuse it gave her to see the man in action, that had her vacillating in front of his apartment. Letting out a resolved huff, Emma squared her shoulders and rapped her knuckles against Killian’s door.

No one has a right to look _that_ good _that_ disheveled.

“Swan?” The gravelly quality of his voice told Emma he hadn’t been up long and she hoped he wouldn’t be upset by her intrusion into his barely begun day. The lop-sided smile he gave her alleviated those worries. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Hi. I, uh… I need a favor, and I need you to not be all innuendo-y when I ask this of you.” His brow quirked up at that, but Emma pressed on. “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind showing me a few tricks in handling that pole.”

“Of course, love. By all means, come on in.” He swung open his door and gestured for her to enter. His features were displaying over the top levels of lasciviousness before he feigned a look of enlightenment, leaned against his doorway, and began to pout, jutting his chin towards her door. “Oh. You meant _that_ pole.”

She should have known he wouldn’t be able to hold back. Even with all the flirty comments he’d made the other night, she could tell there had been even more he’d bit back. Cocking her head to the side, she shot him an unamused look, knowing the smile she was fighting back was rendering her glare ineffective.

He chuckled and ran his hand through his bed head hair. “Apologies, love. But it was rather low hanging fruit. I’d be happy to assist you. Just give me a few minutes to finish my coffee and stretch and I’ll be over in a tick.”

She thanked him and told him to let himself in, then made her way back to her apartment before the offer of him stretching in her apartment slipped off her tongue. She could only imagine what he would have done with that, and Emma was walking a very fine line as it was.

The line of flirting with a man she’d been fantasizing about for the past few weeks while still _technically_ in a relationship. But only technically. Because her relationship with Walsh was over. She’d known it for a while, but hadn’t taken the time to officially end it. They rarely saw one another, whatever spark that may have been present at the beginning had long since dwindled - _hence his last ditch effort to reignite it with the gift of the fitness pole_ \- and it was clear that they’d only been together for as long as they had because it was easy and convenient.

Emma didn’t want convenient anymore. Although, having the man she was currently feeling a spark with live right next door was certainly handy.

When Walsh had come by the day before to install the pole, even though she’d told him that wasn’t necessary because she hadn’t decided whether to keep it, Emma had made sure to be out of the apartment. Still not ready for the confrontation, and feeling even more awkward about ending things when he’d just dropped who knows how much on the stupid pole, Emma knew she couldn’t keep putting it off. Especially if she was going to have Killian Jones come over to give her lessons on how to use something that was every bit as much a sex toy as it was a fitness tool. At least in her mind.

While waiting, Emma took the opportunity to change into some workout clothes, not the tightest or most alluring ones she owned, but definitely a close second. When Killian strode into her apartment, she preened a bit when he stopped short, staring at her before shaking off the blatant appreciation and clearing his throat as he turned his attention to the pole off in the corner of the living room. His focus on the fitness equipment allowed her a chance to admire the equipment he was sporting beneath his loose fitting sweat pants, riding low on his hips, and the v-necked t-shirt that hugged his biceps while revealing the enticing tuft of hair peeking out from the collar.

“Right,” he said, clearing his throat again while he tested the stability of the pole with a firm shake. “First thing,” the shift in his tone almost startled Emma. Used to him being flirty with naughty undertones, the seriousness he was now applying to the subject gave her pause, but not in a bad way. She reminded herself that, even though the instrument he was about to give instruction on wasn’t one _he_ typically utilized, it _was_ associated with his profession, and that was something he seemed to take very seriously. Not wanting him to think she had any sort of _thoughts_ or _opinions_ over his chosen occupation - _she was not one to judge, after all_ \- she gave him her full attention. “You want to just get familiar with it. Different moves will help work different muscle groups, but before you can dive into those you need to find a confidence level, a trust in yourself and the equipment.”

He reached up and gripped the pole then brought his legs up with one of them braced against the lower section. “You seem pretty toned in the arms, so you may already have the necessary upper body strength,” he commented without any hint of flirtation, just a simple matter of fact, but the words caused heat to start creeping up from her chest nonetheless, a fluster she couldn’t suppress at his confession at having noticed her own toned physique. “But,” he continued, “It’s important to keep your toes pointed and your back arched. It’ll help keep your core muscle engaged.”

He demonstrated a few different techniques, breaking down the different muscle groups they’d work while warning her of the common mistakes people make when they start using the pole.

“Now, before I get you up on this thing,” he did waggle his brows at her with that one, “let me show you a couple of different combinations to get you going.”

Emma’s eyes widened when he peeled off his shirt, revealing his sculpted torso which was blanketed in the chest hair she’d only been teased with from the open collars of his various shirts. Her eyes swept over the expanse of his chest, down his abdomen, and followed the trail of hair paving a path from his navel to below the drawstring waist of his pants with a gaze she’d never be able to claim innocence over. His throat cleared again and her eyes shot up to meet his; a cheeky smirk and smugly raised brow pointed in her direction.

“While I appreciate your _studious_ attention to detail, Swan,” he teased, forcing a blush to bloom at her cheeks and a secondary heat to swoop low in her belly from the way he swiped his tongue over his lip. “You might want to readjust your focus a tad.”

Emma nodded and swallowed past the arid patch that had settled in her throat. “Right. Of course. Sorry. Carry, uh… carry on.”

Shooting her one last shamelessly suggestive look, he began maneuvering his body up and around the fitness pole with such grace and control - _not to mention heeps of sex appeal_ \- Emma couldn’t help her jaw from practically falling to the floor. The flex of the muscles in his back and biceps, the twitch of his triceps, and the pull of his abs, not to mention the way his hair fell over his forehead, or the way he winked at her whilst in the middle of a spin, had her clenching her thighs to try and alleviate the ache that had begun to throb between her legs. When he inverted his grip, suspending himself upside down, she understood there had been an _actual need_ to remove his shirt, so it wouldn’t get in the way during the next series of moves. Moves that had Emma’s head snapping up to the ceiling when the sound of the pole pulling away from the drywall split the air.

“Killian!” she cried out.

Too late, he wasn’t able to regain his footing before the pole toppled over, landing him with a jarring thud on her wood floors, flat on his back.

“Oh, my God! Killian, are you okay?” Rushing over, she crouched down next to him, placing her hand against his chest while looking him over for injuries. She felt the groan through her palm even before it passed his lips, and just as his eyes opened to meet hers, her door flew open with a worried voice crossing the threshold.

“Emma! Babycakes, are you alri--” Walsh halted a few steps inside her apartment, taking in the scene before him. “Who the fuck is this?”

“Walsh,” Emma sighed. The man had impeccable timing. “What are you doing here?”

Walsh sputtered indignantly. “Don’t change the subject,” he shouted. “I think I have the right to know who the fuck the half naked man in your apartment is.”

“His name is Killian, he’s my neighbor, and he’s the guy you almost killed from your shoddy installation of this ridiculous thing you hoped would save our relationship!”

“Perhaps, I should go,” Killian groaned, attempting to get up, only to be pushed back down by Emma’s firm but gentle prompting.

“You’re not going anywhere, Killian. You’re injured.”

“Emma. Kitten,” Walsh pleaded, practically giving Emma whiplash with the way his moods could swing. “You don’t mean tha--”

“Yes. I do,” she snapped. Assured Killian wouldn’t try to get up again, Emma stood and rounded on her moronic _ex_ -boyfriend. “I know you have a problem with _actually_ listening to _anything_ I say, given that I can’t count the number of times I have told you _not_ to call me by those stupid pet names, but you _will_ hear this.” Taking a deep calming breath, she looked him straight in the eye and declared, “We’re over, Walsh. We’ve _been_ over for a while now. You know it. I know it. It’s time to stop denying it and just… move on.”

“I see,” Walsh said in a hushed detached tone that became more venomous as he continued to speak. “After all I’ve done for you, you’re leaving me for _him_.”

“Where on earth did you get that idea?” Emma exclaimed, dumbfounded. Surely he recognized their relationship had broken down long before Killian had moved in next door. Even if she _was_ considering moving things forward with her neighbor, he certainly wasn’t the reason things between her and Walsh had gone south. She hadn’t even known Killian’s name until a few nights ago!

“What else am I supposed to think when I find you with a half naked man in your apartment doing God knows what that caused you to rip a fucking stripper pole out of the ceiling?”

“First of all,” Emma shot back, “The pole collapsed because _you_ didn’t anchor it properly. Second, Killian’s here offering me lessons on the _exercise_ equipment _you_ bought for me. How else did you expect me to use it if I don’t have someone show me how?”

“Yeah. Right. I’m sure he’s here to help you with your _fitness_ , Emma,” Walsh snarked.

“Oh, I assure you, mate. I’m here for fitness,” Killian chimed in.

Emma closed her eyes, simultaneously cringing at the joke she knew he was about to goad Walsh with, while also eager to see how it would most likely send Walsh over the edge.

“...Fittin’ this whole pole up your--”

“Okay, alright, enough,” Emma cut him off, while keeping Walsh from advancing any further towards the prone man still laid out on her floor. “I think it’s time for you to go. For good,” she told Walsh with a look and tone that did not invite any further discussion.

“Fine,” he clipped. “But I’m sending you a bill for the pole.”

Rolling her eyes, she quipped out a _fine_ before calling after him when he reached the door.

“Walsh.”

He looked back over his shoulder, an almost smug expression stretching across his face, as though he thought she was now having second thoughts watching him go.

“Leave your key.”

Fury flashed across his face while he removed the key from the ring before slapping it down onto the entry table and exiting, slamming the door behind him.

Humiliation itched under Emma’s skin. Did she really just have it out with her now _ex_ -boyfriend in front of Killian Jones? Heading back to his side, she kept her eyes averted from his, unsure of what to say.

“So...” he drawled.

Emma braced herself for the forthcoming brush-off. No way he’d want to pursue her now.

“Babycakes? Kitten? Little wonder it didn’t work out.”

The disgust in his tone over Walsh’s use of pet names had her head snapping up. Meeting his open and understanding gaze, they both broke into a fit of laughter over the absurdity of what had happened, until Killian grimaced reminding her of why he was on the floor.

“Are you okay?” Helping him up, she held onto him until she was sure he was steady on his feet before taking a step back so he could truly assess the damage.

“Aye. Nothing wounded but me pride,” he joked, though she didn’t doubt he was a little embarrassed for landing on his ass, even if it hadn’t been his fault. “Though, I imagine I’ll have a hell of a bruise that’ll be tricky to cover.” The hiss escaping him when he ran his fingers over the rump of his hip seemed to confirm that assessment. “To say nothing of how stiff and sore I’ll be for a day or two.”

“Oh, God! You’re not working tonight, are you?”

Quick to diffuse her panic, Killian placed a hand on her shoulder. “As a matter of fact, it’s my night off. A little heat therapy, an ice pack, and maybe a bit of nursing, and I should be right as rain for my performances tomorrow night.”

Emma didn’t miss the emphasis, or its intent, when he mentioned the nursing, or the hopeful expression he was giving her as he awaited a response.

“I might know of someone who could look after you for a few hours,” Emma replied coyly. “Unfortunately, she _does_ have to work tonight, so how about we get you settled before she has to get ready?”

“That would be grand. Thank you, love.”

“For what it’s worth,” Emma said as he put his shirt back on with a bit of a wince, “I was pretty impressed by what I saw before the pole gave way.”

“Is that so?” Killian responded, stepping into her personal space with a bit of a purring hum that almost made her knees go weak. “Well, you should come by the club sometime. Get the _full_ experience.”

“Maybe I will,” she said with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulder before flickering her eyes up to his beneath her lashes. “Or you could give me another private show as soon as I find someone to reinstall the pole. Correctly this time.”

Killian glanced at the upended piece of equipment and informed her, “My brother’s a contractor. I could get him to reinstall it and fix the damage it caused, if you’d like.”

“Are you sure he’s up to the task? He won’t find it weird, installing a stripper pole in your neighbor’s living room?”

“No more than he found it awkward installing mine in my bedroom,” he answered with a swagger of his brows.

~/~

Emma thought she had prepared herself for this, but boy howdy had she been wrong.

Sitting among the mob of women who continued to thirst even though their blood alcohol levels were surely approaching alarming heights, Emma almost did a double take when her neighbor moseyed onto the stage. Dressed in an outfit that matched the club’s western theme, Killian was every inch the Wild West fantasy these women - Emma included - had come to see at the Yippee Ki Yay Club. From his brimmed hat down to his boots, he played the part as the bass began to thump and women called out _yee haw_ as he sauntered across the stage, teasing them with small movements before the beat dropped and the real show began.

Hat pulled down low over his brow, all attention was focused on his body as he rolled his torso and swiveled his hips. The leather jacket was the first item to go, swung over his head like a lasso before being tossed off stage so he could start flicking open the buttons on his vest, peeling it down his arms before repeating the action with his shirt. All the while his dirty grind kept time with the music until his movements suddenly stopped. Shirt now cast aside, he turned his back to the audience and slowly bent over at the waist, giving the crowd a full on view of his ass.

Well, not quite _full on_. That came a moment later when his jeans were somehow ripped away from his legs, leaving him in just his chaps and boots. The bareness of his backside was left on display, the music drowned out by the screams, whistles, and catcalls erupting around the room while he secured the straps Emma could now see keeping the chaps attached to his thighs. The undulating began again as he straightened himself. Pausing for effect yet again, he peered over his shoulder with a raised brow and sexy smirk, barely visible beneath the brim of his hat, which was miraculously still atop his head.

Emma held her breath when he started to face forward again. His g-string barely contained what lay beneath, framed by the front of the chaps and drawing all eyes when he bucked his hips forward and rolled his entire body, hands raised above his head so as to not obscure even an inch of his flesh from the neck down. Lip caught between his teeth, he worked his entire body to ensure each flex and ripple of muscle achieved their goal - to drive the entire place wild.

All too soon the song ended, and Emma felt dizzy from the mixture of heat and lust coursing through her body. Holy. Hell. If she hadn’t wanted to bang down his door before, just so she could bang _him_ , she most certainly did now.

_Yee haw and yippee ki yay, indeed._

“Ladies!” the club announcer’s voice called out over the speaker system. “For tonight’s final performance, our outlaw is in need of an accomplice to join him in the bull ring!”

Emma had seen the ring when she’d first arrived; a padded area with a mechanical bull placed in the center, just off to one side of the stage.

“He’s on the lookout for someone to join his posse! Who wants to take him up on the offer?”

A cacophony of shouts and pleas crescendoed around her, women frantically trying to flag down Killian’s attention while he scanned the room. When his eyes landed on her, they widened for a split second before a feral grin broke across his face. Raising his hand, he pointed right at her before crooking his finger and beckoning her forward.

Emma wasn’t sure under what power she actually made it over to the bull ring, but before she knew it, she was taking Killian’s proffered hand and climbing over the low wall that separated the machine from the crowd.

“What are you doing here, Swan?” Killian asked in a low, elated whisper as the announcer set up the next… whatever it was they were about to do.

Shaking off all of the… _things_ his performance had brought out in her, Emma saucily replied, “You invited me to come see you perform, didn’t you? Well? Here I am.”

“Do you have any idea what you’ve just gotten yourself into?” His challenging tone and heated, narrowed gaze sent a thrill up her spine, but she wasn’t one to be out matched.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure I can handle it. Question is…” She paused for a moment, trailing her eyes down his body before flicking them up to meet his. “Can you?”

Music concussed the air once again and Killian leaned in, murmuring against the shell of her ear. “I guess we’re about to find out, but I do so love a challenge.”

With that he was back in character, swinging himself up onto the back of the bull. Emma still wasn’t sure what was expected of her until he called out, “Come and place yourself here, love.” Smacking the hard surface in front of him, he twitched his brows and quipped, “That’s a good girl.”

Throwing back her shoulders, Emma marched up to the side of the thing and reached up to climb on.

“Ah, ah,” Killian corrected, twirling his finger. “Other way round.”

Now understanding what position he wanted her to take, Emma settled herself on top of the bull - _and halfway into Killian’s lap_ \- facing him.

His fingers skimmed down her arms, leaving ripples of raised flesh in their wake, until he reached her wrists. Bringing her hands up, he wrapped them around his neck then placed his hands around her waist.

“You’ll want to hang onto me, love,” he told her, the deep resonance in his voice making her shiver. “You’re in for quite a ride.”

When the bull lurched she instinctively tightened her arms around his neck, pressing their bodies closer together. His chest rumbled against hers, a devious chuckle vibrating past his lips as his hands slid up her back so he could keep her pinned against him.

“When the bull rears up, lean back into the motion,” he instructed, his warm breath caressing the side of her neck, making her whole body tingle. “When it pitches forward,” his head moved from where it had rested on her shoulder, so his forget-me-not eyes could capture hers, giving an extra layer of meaning to his words, “lean into me.”

Without taking her eyes from his, Emma put into practice the directions he gave her. Staying loose and fluid, so their bodies worked together with the canting motion of the contraption beneath them, they settled into a sensual rhythm that made Emma’s insides come alive even as the bull continued to buck and gyrate chaotically.

Heaving breaths stemming from the effort of staying astride the mechanical beast - _to say nothing of the desire cresting within her from straddling Killian’s lap_ \- had Emma’s breasts rubbing against his chest, her nipples hardening into rigid peeks she knew he could feel from under her blouse and lacy bra. His own chest labored, his eyes darkening with each roll of the mechanism that forced her to grind down on his groin and clamp her thighs together against his hips in an effort to not be thrown from the bull’s back.

Her hands threaded their way through the back of his hair, hindered from fully sinking into the silky depths by the hat still perched askew on his head. Emma pulled her lip between her teeth, a mischievous brow arching up towards her hairline as she plucked the hat from his head and placed it onto her own. Cheers and catcalls rang out from the crowd, with some _Get it girl!_ encouragement that helped release any last inhibitions she may have been holding on to. Just when she thought she’d managed to get a handle on this provocative dance they were doing, Killian skimmed his nose up the column of her throat and whispered into her skin.

“Here’s where the real fun begins.”

The bull tipped downward unexpectedly, practically vertical in pitch, and Killian once again grabbed her wrists so he could direct her movements.

“Lie back, Swan

.”

Obeying, she draped her body along the top of the bull, his hat tumbling off her head towards the padded floor below. Her legs were still straddled over Killian’s lap until he slid from beneath her, somehow kneeling between her thighs so he could guide her arms up over her head where her hands found the horns jutting out at the front. Slowly, the bull raised up, bringing them into a more horizontal stance with Emma splayed over its top and Killian positioning himself over her.

Set in a modified plank, Killian began a torturous assault of body rolls and hip thrusts that scarcely made contact as they skimmed over her heated flesh. When she arched up to meet him, seeking out some sort of friction that might alleviate the want consuming her entire body, all he gave her was a wicked smile and taunting waggle of his finger.

She had to give it to him. His upper body strength was impressive, given he had to hold that plank with one arm in order to admonish her like that.

Not nearly as impressive as other parts of his body, though. One in particular, of which she’d only gotten a hint of when she’d sat astride him, but finally got to feel the full magnitude of once he lowered himself between her thighs and draped his torso against hers.

His nose and the vapor of his breath scorched a path across her collar bone, over the hollow of her throat, then up her neck.

“God, I want you,” he growled into her ear. “Do you have any idea how often I’ve imagined you like this? Writhing beneath me.” Her breath caught on a moan working its way up from the back of her throat, then choked into a laugh with his next words. “Though, you usually had fewer clothes on, and there was no audience.”

The audience. Right. Somehow she had forgotten about them. Probably a good thing that Killian hadn’t, otherwise they would be getting a different kind of show entirely. Club rules be damned.

Emma whimpered when he pulled away, sitting back up before assisting her in resuming their original position. The bull jerked and spun, and she gave a loud yelp, clutching at his skin, now slick from the sweat beading up over his shoulders and collecting in the hollow of his throat.

 _Fuck_ , did she want to lick up those droplets.

She really needed this song to end so she could drag him back to one of their apartments, or to his dressing room in the back, or in some dark corner just behind the stage. At this point she didn’t really care. She wanted him to strip her like he had himself so they could both have free rein over each other’s bodies without the club rules they’d already come recklessly close to skirting standing in the way of what they really wanted.

Which, for Emma, was the burn and stretch of Killian’s _pole_ plunging into her over and over again.

Once the song _finally_ ended, Killian helped Emma down off the bull. She had to keep a hand secured to its side until she trusted her legs to support her, but didn’t have that luxury for long before one of the club crew members approached her, asking that she follow him backstage so Killian could finish up his act.

_Dear Lord, there’s more?_

Apparently, _finishing the act_ meant giving him a chance to make the rounds so he could collect his tips before exiting to thunderous applause, whistles, and… were those undergarments being tossed at him?

His chaps and g-string crammed full with bills, he grabbed her hand once he cleared the curtain and had her pressed up against a wall in one of those dark corners she’d been fantasizing about, his lips crashing against hers with a voracious hunger. His hand snaked beneath the hem of her blouse, catching fire to the skin of her ribcage before it crept its way up to palm her breast. Emma’s hands gripped his bare ass, pulling him closer as she hitched her leg over his hip, dislodging some of his hard- and well-earned spoils, the crinkling and light flutter of their descent barely audible over the restrained moans and pants filling the shadowed cove they were only halfway hidden within.

When she trailed one of her hands around to his front, cupping his balls and the base of his solid cock in the palm of her hand it only took one kneading motion before he started to shudder. Grabbing onto her wrist, he broke off the kiss, but made no attempts to pull away. Resting his forehead against hers, he licked at his lips and took in a stuttering breath before his eyes fluttered open.

“Not here,” he said, the strain of his voice sending another wave of arousal through her body, pooling between her legs.

“Your place or mine?” Emma panted, knowing he’d have to get changed and do whatever he normally did to finish up his shift before leaving the club.

“I guess that depends,” he murmured low, that sultry lilt doing absolutely sinful things to Emma’s already debauched state. “Did my brother show up today to reinstall your fitness pole?”

Emma’s brows pinched together. “Why? Are you planning on giving me an encore performance?”

“Actually,” he countered, skimming his nose against the tip of hers, his lips hovering at the ready for another kiss. “I was rather hoping you’d be the one giving the performance.”

Emma hummed as if giving his request some thought. She ran her tongue over her lips, its glide teasingly close to his mouth causing a responding growl to resonate low in his throat. “Well, then. I guess the better question is… your pole, or mine?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After much ado, here is the followup to the incredibly talented Hollye's fantastic chapter. 
> 
> Thanks @hollyeleigh, @artistic-writer (itrustyoutokillme), and a-to-h-713 for help with writing, terms for sexy bits, and the crushing doubt that I could live up to the incredibly high bar set by the first chapter.

_Calm down,_ Emma told herself, stepping in and taking a deep breath. She fell back against the closed door of her apartment. She was on edge, the image of him dancing on the stage, of his body rolling on top of hers, how he’d felt pressed against her backstage, the feel of him in her hand, all of it playing over and over in her mind. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip, remembered how he tasted. 

Killian had needed another thirty minutes he’d said, to finish his shift. He had to change and record his tips and then help close up. Thirty minutes and then he’d meet her at her apartment, at her _pole,_ he’d joked. There had been no point in her waiting around outside the bar, so he’d told her to go home and wait for him, that he’d hurry. He’d walked her out and kissed her again against the brick next to the back entrance, and then he’d taken her phone number so that he could let her know when he was on his way. 

They’d been really practical about it, which felt weird since they were planning when and where exactly they would - finally - jump each other’s bones. Well, more specifically, when and where she would strip and pole dance for him and _then_ jump his bones. She’d opened her front door with shaky hands, the anticipation of knowing he’d be here soon, that she’d have to wait for him, already keeping her on edge. 

_Pull it together_ , Emma scolded herself when her breathing still refused to return to normal after the very uncomfortable drive home that had her shifting in her seat the whole way. Why was she so nervous? She’d hooked up with hot guys before. She could do this. She _wanted_ to do this. She was just out of practice. Stupid Walsh had taken up too much of her time and too much of her sex life for too long. She’d done this before. She could do it again. It was like riding a bike - or a hot, stripper neighbor. 

Right. She had promised him a dance. It was only fair, he’d taken the time to teach her and he’d given her a hell of a show. Returning the favor was the least she could do. Emma dropped her keys in the bowl and grabbed her phone. First thing’s first, she needed a song. Opening her app and searching through her music though, she grew frustrated. _Why didn’t she have more stripable songs in her playlists?_ Everything was either too cheesy or too serious or not sexy enough or so overtly sexy it was cliche. What song had he danced to? She couldn’t remember. The music had been the last thing on her mind at the time. 

Frowning, she took another few minutes until _finally_ , she found the perfect one. Biting her lip and smiling excitedly, she queued it up and connected it to her speakers. She plugged the device into its charger and looked around the room. Killian’s brother had set up the pole exactly where she’d asked for it to be, far enough away from her furniture and living area that it could almost go unnoticed if someone wasn’t aware of it. But some rearranging would be in order if she wanted to really give Killian a show tonight. 

Her lips curled up wickedly as she thought of what she had planned. This would be fun. She was going to blow his mind. There was a small but comfortable armchair over by her TV. It would do nicely, she thought. She dragged it from the other side of the room until it was settled across from the pole, close enough that someone would get an excellent view if they were sitting in it, but not so close that she might accidentally kick that someone in the face. Perfect.

She gave the pole a few solid shakes. While she trusted Liam’s craftsmanship, she remembered Killian’s fall the other day and it was an experience she definitely didn’t want to repeat. The metal bar felt solid under her hands so she lifted herself up with her arms and wrapped a leg around it, trying one of the simple moves that Killian had shown her the other day. Then she tried one that he hadn’t taught her, one she’d found on a very interesting pole dancing website she’d discovered on her own, a move she was sure would be a hit. She was saving it for last, the grand finale. If she got that far. The pole held firm. Good. She didn’t want to ruin the mood by falling on her ass. 

She checked the time. It had been twenty minutes. Their building was only a short drive from the club so she knew he would be here soon. Her skin was already starting to prickle with anticipation. She couldn’t stop picturing him on that stage, muscles and sweat-slicked skin covered in soft hair that she’d only gotten to feel for a second. She rubbed her thighs together, remembering how he’d pressed her against that wall. She knew how he felt and she knew how he kissed, and she had seen what else he could do with his body and his hips and _god_ she just wanted him. He needed to get here already. 

Her phone buzzed on the table, startling her out of her daydream and she crossed the room to check who it was. She was surprised to see that it was a text from Killian; he should still have been at the club for another ten minutes at least. For a second she was worried that he was running late, or worse, that he was cancelling. But when she read his message, a small smile pulled at her lips, her heart thudding quickly against her ribcage. 

_Killian: Just changing and then I’ll leave. I can’t stop thinking about you._

It was almost sweet, she thought before her phone buzzed again and she opened another message from him. She nearly dropped the phone. She swallowed, biting her lip, a pulsing slickness picking up between her legs. He’d sent her a picture. And what a picture it was. His chest and abs and just the very edge of his sharp jaw filled her screen. She followed the trail of dark hair down his stomach to below his hips where he was only covered by the cowboy hat he’d worn on stage. It was a moment before she realized he wasn’t using his hand to hold it up. _Jesus_. 

Emma took a second to steady her breathing, and then another to look at the picture longer, wishing her screen was bigger and that he’d have skipped the hat. She thought of all the things she wanted to do to him, pictured him sprawled out beneath her on the couch, looming over her on her bed, taking her against the front door, on the kitchen counter. 

She texted back with shaking fingers, so aroused it was nearly painful at this point. If she was less desperate for him she might have thought of something witty or even some kind of joke, maybe a flirty ‘ride-em, cowboy.’ But she wasn’t. She _was_ desperate, and she needed him to get over here and follow through on all the promises he’d made at the club. So she just texted one word. _Hurry._

She needed a distraction. She needed something to do or else she was going to take that photo with her into her room and deal with her problem herself. And as much as that was an appealing idea, the thought of coming on Kilian’s cock - or his hands or his mouth, she wasn’t picky - sounded far better than the idea of coming on her own fingers. 

She headed to the bathroom, fixed her makeup where it had gotten smudged from the exertion of trying to keep her hands off of him while riding that bull, and fluffed up her hair just a little. Emma headed to her room next, the picture still open on her phone, her eyes darting between it and the time. It was taking every inch of her self control to be patient and wait until she could feel every inch of him. 

Forcing herself to put it away, she finally noticed the state of her room. She’d forgotten how many outfits she’d tried on before leaving tonight and now her indecision was evident and scattered all over her floor and her unmade bed. Rushing to work, she picked all the garments up off the ground and every other surface they had somehow made their way onto, gathering them all up in her arms and searching for a place to stash them. 

Not having time to put them away properly, she shoved the entire heap into her closet, hiding the dirty little secret away. She glanced at her wardrobe then, at the dresses hanging on the racks, most of them short, fitted pieces she used when trying to lure her perps out into the open. She remembered Killian’s reaction to her dress and sky high heels the first time they’d spoken. Granted, he’d thought she was a stripper, but he’d also made no secret of the fact that they’d lure him out just as easily. 

Maybe she should change. Maybe she should put on her best outfit, the one she used to get even the most elusive scumbags out of hiding. Her brow quirked at the idea of his reaction to it. A small part of her worried he couldn’t handle it. 

Maybe she should put on one of her more intricate lingerie sets, one of the fancy, complicated ones Walsh had bought her but that she hadn’t wanted to wear for him. She liked the idea of wearing them for Killian. He’d know what to do with it at least. Or maybe just a robe and nothing at all underneath would save some time.

She was still debating changing when there was a knock on the door. Her breath caught, heart pounding as she practically ran across the apartment to the front hall. 

He was standing on the other side, leaning against the frame, his assless chaps gone and replaced with sweatpants and a v-neck and the leather jacket she’d seen him in so many times before. That jacket had always been involved whenever she’d caught herself thinking about her hot neighbor in a not so neighbourly way. Running her eyes over him from head to toe, she only missed the chaps a little. He was out of breath, like maybe he’d run up the stairs and he was looking at her now the same way he had in that alcove.

She pulled the door open the rest of the way and made room for him to come in. He stepped through the doorway, swaggered more like, his eyebrow ticking up. She was _so_ out of practice. She wanted to throw herself at him, push her tongue into his mouth and fist her hands in his hair, but she was pretty sure there was some kind of decorum to these things. He was her neighbor after all. Maybe she should offer him a drink, let him come in and situate himself, and not jump on him like some wild, sex-crazed animal.

“Do you,” she started, glancing at the kitchen. Killian stepped closer, crowding her, standing close enough that her chest brushed his and she needed to clear her throat to settle the gooseflesh that was raising on her skin and the heat pooling between her thighs. She tried to speak again. “Would you like a drink or-” 

Emma didn’t get to finish the sentence, cut off by Killian’s hands grabbing hold of her face, his mouth crashing down over hers as he pushed her further back into the apartment, kicking the door closed behind him. _Thank fuck_. 

She moaned against his lips, bringing her arms up around his back, fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer. The urgency of his movements made her think that he’d handled the wait of their separation about as well as she had. 

He shrugged his coat off, keeping his mouth on hers before his hands found her waist, sliding up her back and under her blouse, the heat of his hands burning against her already heated skin.

“That was the longest bloody thirty minutes of my life,” he groaned against her mouth before capturing it again. His kiss was rough, heady and deep, his teeth nipping at her lips, and frustrated, desperate grunts leaving him each time he dived back in, his tongue teasing and licking at the seam of her lips. 

His fingernails dragged down her back when she opened her mouth under his so that he could slide his tongue in, glide it along her own as one of his hands found its way to her ass, grabbing it through her jeans and pulling her hips against his. His other hand slid around her front, cupping her breast as he continued to push her further into the apartment. 

Emma moaned at the feel of his hard length grinding against her through her clothes and the thumb playing under the lace of her bra. She reached for the hem of his shirt, desperate to see him again, to run her hands over his chest and his abs, to take him in her hand again and hear him groan in her ear the way he had at the club. 

He pulled back enough for her to yank it over his head and she took a moment to just look at him, chest heaving under her fingers, skin already damp with sweat. She looked back up at his face, his lips parted and swollen as he panted, watching her. She scraped her nails down his chest and over his stomach, delighting in the way he hissed and threw his head back. She used the opportunity to press her lips to his neck, licking and sucking at the skin there. 

She felt his groan against her lips before he continued to push forward and plow deeper into her apartment, crowding her, his hands coming to her hips and pulling her tightly to him, pressing the length of his body to hers. Her back collided harshly with something and she jolted, breaking away from him for a second. He looked confused too until he looked at what had interrupted them and a slow smirk spread across his face. _The pole._

“I _believe_ ,” he teased, tilting his head so that he could speak low in her ear, “that there was some mention made of a performance tonight.” Her answer caught in her throat when he leaned in and brushed his lips against her jaw. “What do you say Swan? I showed you mine…” She shivered, remembering _exactly_ what he’d showed her, and imagining what she had left to see. 

Raising her hands from where they’d been groping at his ass, she pulled back, pushing lightly at his chest and in turn forcing him to draw his lips away from where they’d gotten distracted trailing down her neck. The confused expression on his face made her smile. She used her grip to maneuver him the few feet across the room to the armchair she’d set up earlier, pressing down on his shoulders to make him sit. Settling in with a thump, he looked down at his new station and then back up at her. His eyebrow quirked, smirk back in place. 

Biting back her nerves, Emma turned and sauntered back a few steps, making sure to add a bit of extra swing to her hips. When she faced him again, the look in his face was one of excitement and just that little bit of teasing mischief that had been there on stage and on the bull. It was time to turn the tables. She pulled her phone from her pocket and hit play before tossing it on the plush rug nearby. The smile on his face when the music filled the room was positively sinful and she knew she’d picked the right song. 

She started slowly, catching his eye and raising a brow suggestively as she reached for the first button of her blouse, surprised to find that it was already undone. Her mouth dropped open and he chuckled lowly. Sneaky bastard, when had he done that? 

Not letting herself be phased, she reached for the second, unbuttoning it slowly as she rolled her shoulders, letting her hips sway to the music. She bit her lip, hoping her inexperience wouldn’t show through as she continued slowly popping button after button. But his gaze was fixated on her fingers, on the skin that was slowly being revealed to him, eyes dark and hands gripping and releasing the arm of the chair as he watched her.

With all the fastenings finally free, she turned her back to him, slid her blouse slowly off one shoulder and then the other. When she threw what she hoped was a coy look at him over her shoulder, his heavy, shaky exhale spurred her on and she let the shirt drop to the floor. 

Facing him again in only her jeans and lacy bra, she made a show of running her fingers through her hair, fluffing it and letting the long, blonde waves fall over her chest and shoulders before moving to the fly of her jeans. 

Those were shed more quickly than her shirt, slid slowly down snaking hips until they hit the floor and were kicked away. Killian was looking at her now with his mouth hanging open, his jaw literally dropping for a moment. She toyed with the hem of her underwear and revelled in the way his throat bobbed heavily as he swallowed. 

She could see him straining against the fabric of his sweatpants, the muscles of his stomach tensing. The ripple of them, along with the tension in his arms and neck made her think of how purposefully and evocatively he’d moved over her on that bull, intentionally keeping just far away enough to drive her mad with desire and denial. A little turnabout seemed fair play. 

Abandoning her task, she sauntered forward, catching his eye and holding his gaze until she was standing right in front of him. His knees slid apart automatically, making room for her between them as she braced her hands on the back of the chair on either side of his head. 

Watching as his jaw ticked and his eyes narrowed, she smirked before rolling her body over his in a move that was reminiscent of his own, bringing her lace-clad breasts inches from his face. Delighting in the low rumble that came from his throat, she repeated the move, slower this time, and then once more. 

She thought he might actually lose his mind, a small, desperate sound escaping his throat seamingly of its own volition when she brought her hands to his knees and dropped to her haunches, sitting on her heels and spreading his legs apart so that she could slowly slide back up between them. He reached for her then and Emma nearly laughed with vindication when she held a finger up between them and shook it. 

“Ah, ah,” she warned, catching her smile between her teeth. 

He groaned in frustration, his head falling back against the chair. She could already see the fine sheen of sweat that was starting to build on his skin and for a moment she contemplated catching some of it on her tongue but then she was struck with a better idea, her revenge for the bull not yet fully sated. 

She turned her back to him, throwing another smirk over her shoulder when she saw him squeezing his eyes shut, teeth clenched and knuckles white against the armrest. She lowered herself delicately into his lap, holding herself steady with one hand on the armrest, the other coming up to run through the hair at the nape of his neck as she began to swivel and swirl her hips over him to the beat of the music, grinding her ass against the impressive hardness she could feel beneath her. 

This time, he did touch her. Killian let out a pained ‘ _fuck, Swan,’_ before his hand grabbed hold of her hip, fingers bruising against her skin as he pulled her tightly against his groin, thrusting up against her backside. Her fingers fisted in his hair when his lips began an assault on her neck, sucking a mark into the spot where it met her shoulder and then sliding up to below her ear. Her writhing against him was becoming less intentional and more reactional by the second.

His disgruntled protest when she ripped herself away shot heat down to her core but she reminded herself that she’d endured far worse and far longer teasing at his hands tonight than he had from her. She stood before him, pushing him back down with a hand flat on his chest when he tried to follow and raising a challenging brow at him. 

“I’m pretty sure you asked for a performance,” she said, loving the fact that he was already panting, cock tenting the loose cotton of his pants. “After all, you were such a good teacher, it would be a shame not to show you what I’ve learned.” 

“You’re killing me, Emma,” he pleaded and she smiled, the obvious need in his voice giving her the confidence to continue. She winked.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, cowboy.” 

Not wanting to end up on her ass, Emma started slowly, circling the pole a few times to get her bearings and familiarize herself with it the way Killian had taught her the first time she’d had him shirtless in her apartment. She rolled her body against the metal rod, mimicking her movements from earlier before growing bolder, hooking her leg and spinning around it, making sure to keep her back bent and her toes pointed to ensure maximum stability. The fact that it also made her ass and her chest look fantastic was an added bonus. She could tell that Killian thought so too when she noticed him shifting uncomfortably in his chair. 

More comfortable now, she cycled through a few of the slightly more acrobatic poses that Killian had shown her and that she’d found time to practice since. They were fairly tame but she was building up to something as she slowly shifted to some of the moves she’d found online, the ones she’d picked specifically with Killian in mind, just hoping she could drive him even close to as crazy as he’d driven her. 

First though, she went back to circling the pole, teasing as she rolled her hips against it and then threw him a wicked smile. She turned her back to him and dropped down on her haunches, rising slowly back up, hips first. When she was standing again, she grabbed hold of the pole and hoisted herself up, wrapping her legs securely around it above her waist and gracefully - to her surprise - releasing her hands and letting her back arch downward until her head hovered above the floor. 

Before she pulled herself back up, she saw his hand release its white knuckled grip on the armrest and start slowly stroking himself through his sweats. She shivered at the thought of him watching her, touching himself, getting off on the sight of her alone. Her feet landed on the ground and she turned to face him again, meeting his eyes now and holding his gaze as he continued to touch himself, watching her intently with hooded eyes. 

Sure he could see her nipples hardening through her bra and the goosebumps breaking out on her skin, Emma raised her hands above her head, crossing her wrists and grabbing hold of the pole. It might have been nice to throw him a saucy, sexy look or a wink but she was so entranced by the motion of his hand over his straining cock, the way he kept catching his lip between his teeth, that she didn’t have it in her. Her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip, her eyes focused on the obvious bulge in his pants and he snapped, standing and sauntering over to her, stalking her like prey.

Using the strength of her core and her arms which he’d already complimented, she pointed her toes and slowly bent at the waist, raising her feet from the ground until they were straight out in front of her. Killian paused when he reached the tips of her toes raising a questioning brow at her. In lieu of an answer, Emma slid her legs apart, making room for him if he wanted to get closer. 

His fingers brushed the skin over her ankles and he kept his eyes on them as they slid slowly - agonizingly slowly - along her calves and her inner thighs as he stepped forward, settling himself between her open legs. The feather light touches continued, making her tremble under his hands as he trailed them over her sensitive skin again, toying idly with the fabric he found at the apex of her thighs.

"I didn't teach you this move," he pointed out, his voice like gravel as he trailed his gaze up from her center, taking his time to drag his eyes over her stomach and chest before meeting hers.

Her breathing was ragged when she answered. "I may have done some extracurricular research."

"Hmm," he hummed, his thumbs teasing their way under the damp fabric at the apex of the thighs, just barely brushing over her folds. She moaned, her arms shaking and nearly failing to support her. Killian shot her a smirk. "Well I'd say the student has _far_ surpassed the teacher."

He let the elastic snap back against her skin and a small whimper left her as his fingers gave up their exploration to slide around the outside of her thighs to her ass, grabbing roughly and pulling her hips sharply against his own. She cried out and her legs wrapped around him instinctively, needing something to support herself and desperate to keep him close, keep the hard ridge of his cock pressed against her heat.

With some of the pressure taken off her arms, Emma arched her back, grinding wantonly against him and drawing the most amazing sound from deep in his chest. Killian's lips found her neck, tongue licking at the hollow of her throat, dragging his teeth up along her skin, breath and mouth hot under her jaw. 

She rolled her hips against him again and dropped one of her hands to his shoulder. The action had him wrenching his lips away from her skin, pulling back to look at her with a wrecked expression, panting heavily, his hair falling over into his eyes that were blown black. She paused, breathing heavily as he stared at her so hard she thought he might burn a hole through her. Slowly, his expression shifted to something dark and rakish and Emma felt a thrill run through her.

Catching her fingers in his own, he lifted them off his shoulder, dragging her arm back up to its previous position. He placed her hand on the pole and wrapped it firmly around the metal rod. She got the message, hang on. But for what she didn't know. He let the pads of his fingers caress down the length of her arm and then brought his thumb to her lips, dragging slowly over them, parting them enough that she could dart her tongue out to tease it. She could still taste herself on him. 

He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger, pulling her jaw down and closing his mouth over hers, sliding his tongue in to taste her slow and dirty. She whined when he pulled back and he simply cocked a brow at her, leaning in to catch her bottom lip between his teeth before releasing it and dropping to his knees.

 _Oh, god,_ was the only thought going through Emma's mind as he settled her legs over his shoulders, letting her rest some of her weight on him. He looked up, catching her eye as she watched, waiting in anticipation of what he would do next. Holding her gaze, and with just a hint of that wicked smile, he leaned in and closed his lips over the fabric that covered her wet heat. 

Emma cried out, she didn't even care about the sounds she was making as he continued to lick at her, his breath hot and his tongue skilled but the material dulling the sensation just enough to drive her wild. She whimpered again, pushing her hips against his face and she felt him smile, the bastard. 

"It's not nice to tease, Swan," he reprimanded. He mouthed at her again and she thought she might cry if he didn't give her more. "Did you have fun with your little show and your little dance on my lap? Did you enjoy driving me so mad I thought I might come in my pants?" She screwed her eyes shut as she waited for him to do something, anything. She could feel his breath on her, so close but not nearly what she needed. "Because _I am_ ," he told her before closing his lips over her cloth covered clit and sucking.

"God, Killian, please," she begged, her fingers white-knuckled around the pole. Apparently that was all he needed to hear and he left her only long enough to shove the fabric out of the way, his tongue returning to her clit, swirling and flicking as she writhed against his face. 

Of course he was good at this. Of course he was amazing at it. Emma didn't even care that her hands kept slipping, that she could barely hold on as she rode his tongue and then his fingers as he slid them inside, curling them just right. She could fall and break her neck for all she cared if he just didn't stop. 

"Don't stop," she begged aloud, her own voice sounding breathy and desperate to her own ears. He growled against her at her plea, diving back in with renewed eagerness, pinning her hips to the pole with the force of his onslaught. Emma gasped, forgetting for a moment and dropping her hand to fist in his hair, determined to keep him where he was. She didn't fall, between his shoulders beneath her, the one hand she still had a grip with, and the way he was ramming her against the pole, she was steady.

She would have a bruise tomorrow for sure, the metal digging into her spine, but she didn't care. She rocked her hips against his as best she could, keening, pleading sounds leaving her as he pumped his fingers in time with the pulsing of his mouth around her sensitive bundle of nerves. She was so close, he was so good, lips pulling and fingers dragging and tongue licking. She could feel the beginnings of her orgasm prickling at the base of her spine, in her belly, and centering where Killian continued his relentless assault. 

He pulled her clit into his mouth, teeth closing over it and she shattered, a scream leaving her as she arched against the pole, fingers tightening their death grip on it and on his hair. She heard him hiss, vaguely aware that she might have pulled too hard but she was frozen, riding the pleasure that was coursing through her in waves. She sighed his name as her tensed muscles slowly relaxed, her breathing ragged as she came back to awareness. 

He set her legs down on the floor, standing and pressing himself against her, the entire length of his body lined up with hers perfectly and he brought his mouth down over hers. She could taste herself and feel the evidence of her climax on his lips and on his tongue as he kissed her and while it would have turned her off with anyone else, each brush of his lips and swipe of his tongue was a reminder of exactly how skillfully he'd made her come undone and it slowly stoked the flames of her desire that were still simmering despite the incredible heights he'd just brought her to.

Her fingers fisted in his hair again as she groaned and slanted her lips over his, already desperate for more of him. Her other hand slid over his chest, scratching through the hair there, teasing at his nipples and continuing a purposeful trail down his stomach. She reached the hem of his sweatpants and didn't hesitate, slipping her hand inside and finding him naked underneath. He jerked, lips faltering over her own as she wrapped her fingers around his length. 

"Bloody hell, Emma," he rasped, the words breathed against her cheek, and she smirked, pumping him slowly. Another one of those sounds between a growl and a moan left his throat as his hand reached for purchase on the pole above her head. He squeezed his eyes shut, head falling back and exposing the lines of his neck to her as he let her jerk him off for another moment before desperately demanding, "Bedroom?"

Only a little disappointed to let him go, she stroked him once more before nodding and pulling her hand from his sweats. She all but dragged him to her room. They nearly made it there too, before Killian caught her elbow and pinned her against the wall beside her door. 

He kissed her again, less skilled than before, more desperate, more intense, mouth sloppy on her own and she loved it. She pulled him in closer, letting him take whatever he wanted as he cupped her jaw and tilted her head so he could kiss her deeper. His hips pinning hers to the wall, his hands began to roam her sides along her hips and her chest before he snuck one around her front to palm her breast. He stroked and teased her nipple through the lace that hid it from him and Emma cursed the fact that she was still wearing it. 

She arched her back just enough so that she could reach behind her back and unhook it, sliding it off her shoulders and tossing it to the floor. Killian looked at her appreciatively before cupping her now naked breast again, smiling at the small moan that escaped her before winking and dipping his head to take the rosy tip in his mouth. She writhed, arching into the warmth of his mouth and the caress of his tongue. He bit down suddenly, just hard enough to hurt and she cried out desperately, the ache between her thighs becoming unbearable. As if he could read her mind, the hand that wasn’t occupied driving her insane drifted skillfully down to the waist of her underwear, slipping beneath it and the first brush of his deft fingers against her folds had her canting her hips against his touch.

"Bedroom," she forced out between gritted teeth. He hesitated but pulled his hand free, slipping his fingers into his mouth and making a show of slowly dragging them back out and she all but shoved him into her room. 

They'd barely made it through the door before he spun her around to face him, dipping down to grab at her backside and hoist her legs up around his hips. He walked her to the bed and set her down on the edge, his lips finding hers again as he finally got rid of his pants, pushing them down and kicking them away. Emma followed his lead, slipping the last scrap of fabric off her legs and tossing it aside. He pulled back to allow her room to do so, and once she had, she leaned back on her hands and took a moment to just look at him. 

He was gorgeous. She knew that already, but it didn’t make it any less breathtaking every time she saw his toned chest and the thick hair that blanketed it and tapered down his flat stomach. She bit her lip as she followed that trail to the only bit of him she hadn’t gotten to see yet. What that g-string had been hiding finally revealed to her, she was not disappointed. His cock stood hard and proud, bobbing against his stomach. He was impressive, had every right to be cocky, she’d known that when she felt him in her hand but it was different to see it. 

She heard him chuckle and forced herself to look back up at his face. “Enjoying the show, love?” he smirked. 

Emma reached out, trailed her hands up his strong thighs to his hips. “Absolutely,” she told him before taking him in hand again. He inhaled sharply. “You know,” she started, stroking him lightly, finding a rhythm that had his breath coming out hitched and shaking. “After the mishap the other day, I never got to see how you handle your pole.” 

He was looking at her, looking like he might actually still be able to form a coherent sentence. But whatever quip he had planned died on his lips, caught in his throat when she licked him, swirling her tongue around the head of his cock, making his whole body tense. 

He batted her hands away and she squealed, letting out a sharp laugh when he lunged at her, sliding his hands under her thighs and throwing her back into the middle of the bed. She’d barely hit the mattress before he crawled over her, hovering on his hands and knees above her. He looked every bit as tempting as he had on the bull only this time she could touch him. 

Killian seemed to recognize their position as well because he gave her a cheeky smile before pushing himself up and performing another one of those body rolls, only this time, he lowered himself down into the cradle of her thighs. She gasped at the feel of him sliding between her folds, the tip of him just brushing at her clit and sending shockwaves down her spine. 

“Do you have any idea what a torture it was having you under me on that bull? Having you writhing and begging and reaching for me when I couldn’t touch you?” His lips found her neck and she squirmed under him, pushing her hips into his, practically begging him to slide home, but he held back, speaking into the skin of her throat. 

“If there hadn’t been an audience I’d have had you naked and spread open for me, have taken you again and again until you screamed my name,” he continued. Her nails were digging into the skin of his back now, her hips grinding hopelessly, desperate for some kind of friction but it wasn’t enough. 

“I think you’d have liked that,” he said into her ear. “I think you wanted me to fill you up, fuck you until you couldn’t think straight.”

Frustrated and probably more turned on than she’d ever been in her life, she took hold of the hair at the nape of his neck, turning his head so that she could speak into his ear, her voice rough and needy now. “ _Yes_. So do it already,” she demanded catching his lobe between her teeth and tugging. 

She reached for his hip, grabbing and trying to pull him into her waiting heat. He hissed but not in the good way. She let him go, seeing his face twisted in a small wince of pain and remembering his fall, that he’d actually hurt himself. 

“I’m sorry!”

Killian shook his head, still wincing a little. He took her hovering hand and set it back on his hip, a little more gently - and maybe a little lower - than she had. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to make it up to me,” he teased with a pointed roll of his hips. Emma smiled before hooking her leg over his good hip and flipping him onto his back, straddling in his lap. She grabbed the base of his cock, settling herself over him and sinking down over him, tired of teasing and build up. 

There was a shared gasp and Emma’s nails scratched unwittingly at his shoulders as she adjusted to the thick slide and pleasant burn of him inside of her. She shifted her hips experimentally, grinding and rolling them like she had in his lap earlier, and she moaned as he dragged against her walls, hot and hard and so full. 

His hands found her hips as she increased her pace, rising and falling over him over and over again, feeling him slip almost all the way out before sliding home again. Never one to be a passive participant - she’d have expected nothing less - Killian matched her thrusts, pushing up into her, slipping deeper with each pass, pulling her hips down on his own as he did. When they found their rhythm, he started talking again. 

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve thought about this? _Dreamed_ about it?” She cried out as he pulled her down sharply against him, making her legs shake under the onslaught of sensations. “Fuck, Swan, seeing you in those dresses and those heels every other night.” His hand tightened on her thigh, urging her to move faster, as his head fell back against the pillow. “I wanted to drag you into my apartment, rip that dress off and fuck you on any available surface, against the door right there in the hallway.”

“God, yes, me too,” she confessed, rocking over him, bracing herself on his chest, her legs shaking, barely able to hold her up anymore. Killian sat up, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her chest against his as she continued to ride him. The added friction of the coarse hair against her nipples and his hips against her clit making her keen, hands wrapping around his shoulders as she rose steadily towards her peak. 

She was so close, her legs were burning, sweat slicking her body and his. She could see it beading on his neck like it had in the club and this time she did let herself catch them. She brought her lips to his neck, placing heady, open mouthed kisses to his skin, licking at the salty taste of him. He groaned, thrusting up into her harder, faster, both of them close but not nearly close enough. 

As though he knew exactly what she needed, he rolled her onto her back, pulling her legs up around his waist and pounding into her with deep, powerful strokes. She threw her head back, crying out each time his hips snapped against hers, the sounds of their fucking and their breathing and their cries of pleasure and need the only sounds in the room.

He slanted his mouth over hers, muffling her moans and his, sliding his tongue hot and slick against hers. His fingers snaked down between them, finding her clit and circling in time with his thrusts and Emma felt the tremors starting in her belly, in her legs, as her peak lay just out of reach. 

She couldn’t keep her mouth on his anymore, too lost in the pleasure of his fingers on her and his cock inside of her, a constant stream of ‘yes’s escaping her as her whole body began writhing under him. His lips found their way to her neck, to her ear where he sucked and nipped at her earlobe, whispering filth and encouragements, how good she felt around him, how much he wanted her, wanted her to come around him, on his cock, begging her to come for him. 

He pressed harder on her clit, circling faster, hips snapping into her more desperately and more erratically, barely under control anymore and she came with a force, her legs wrapping around his hips, locking him in place, her mouth caught open in a silent ‘o’ as her back arched and she trembled under him. She heard him give a pained cry as he continued to rut her into the mattress until she felt him come hot inside of her.

It was only after the sweat had started to cool on her body and her breathing was finally returning to normal, her limbs boneless as they stopped trembling, that she realised that she’d clawed at his back when she came. She could see the dark red marks streaked across his flesh and she tried to feel less proud and more guilty. That certainly wouldn’t be good for his career, but she liked the idea that other women might look at him and know that _she_ was the one he’d decided to take home. 

She traced the marks gingerly and he hummed against the crook of her neck where his face was buried, the sound turning into a deep chuckle. 

“Sorry,” she told him, but he shook his head, lifting it to look at her. 

“By all means, Swan, feel free to leave your mark anytime.” 

He smirked at her and she rolled her eyes lightly, trying to ignore the way her stomach did a little flip at his suggestion that there would be other times. He lifted himself off of her, flopping onto his back, and Emma turned her head to look at him. Wow, she’d actually done it. She’d fucked her hot stripper neighbor. Where did that leave them now? Was this a one night stand or was it more? He _had_ said anytime…

Killian reached out, pulling her into his chest and wrapping an arm around her. She tensed briefly in surprise, not used to cuddling afterwards and not having expected him to be the type. She kind of liked it though as she lay her head on his shoulder, but it was _his_ muscles that were tense now. 

“Do you want me to go?” he asked, his voice sounding hesitant. The question caught her off guard until she realised that he may have taken her surprise as resistance. She wrapped her arm around his waist, settling herself in more comfortably.

“Feels like a waste for you to put all those clothes back on just to walk across the hall,” she shrugged, “especially when you’re so good at taking them off.” She felt him relax, felt the smile he turned and pressed against the crown of her head. 

Killian spent the night, which turned out to be an excellent idea because it offered him the opportunity to demonstrate just how well he could handle his pole, over and over again. And, despite all the ridiculous drama and bruised asses, Emma had to begrudgingly admit that she was really damn happy her idiot ex had bought her the stupid pole. 


End file.
